Marianna reached out to grab Silvertongue's elbow and escort him to the crates. "Start with these," she instructed. "Look at the bottles, look for years on the label. The older it is, the more valuable. Here." She grabbed a crowbar and, after a bit of heaving, managed to pry the lid off one crate. "See, these ones are all from 1762," she explained as she lifted up one of the bottles packed in a honeycomb grid of soft wood and padded with sawdust, "so they're only three years old. Not very valuable. Ten years or older is where we're looking at real profit. Got it?"
Open The Market The Mysterious Vixen. Witch, Fortune-Teller, or Fraud?
- Thread starter Madame Lorelei
- Start date
Silvertongue nodded. "Right, right... ten years or older. Oh, Madame Lorelei... please keep those guards busy, because I haven't the slightest idea what I'm doing!"
The two guards, in the meantime, were starting to get slightly anxious and impatient respectively. "...And if you go down that street there, just keep going straight a couple of blocks, you'll hit the market," the more helpful of the two explained, pointing down one of the roads leading through the Slups. "You really can't miss it. You think you'll be fine, grannie? It's just, we really need to be getting back to the warehouse or the boss will have our heads."
Madame Lorelei nodded, her lip faltering. "I-I suppose..." She said softly, weakly, clutching the kinder foxes' paw. "You're such a kind young todd. You remind me of my son... b-before he passed on to the Dark Forest." She sniffled, blinking heavily. "Oh, my poor Jeremiah... he was taken from me by the sickness, all those years ago... a mother should never have to bury her child!" She lamented. "Listen to me, bothering you with my troubles... don't mind a little old vixen, I'll just be on my way..." She let go of his paw and started to walk down the street, leaning heavily on her cane. Hoping the bait would work."
There was a long sigh from one of the guards, then the friendlier of the two calling after her. "Wait." The beast hurried to catch up to her, adding, "I'll escort you, alright?"
"If you do," his partner warned, "I ain' comin' with. I'm not stickin' my neck out fer ya."
"Just go back then," the first remarked. "If anyone shows up, tell 'em I went to use the outhouse behind the tavern. I won't be long, I'm sure."
"Fine, fine," the second grumbled, waving his paw as he turned away.
~~~
Most of the crates seemed to have the same dusty bottles packed in with straw in softwood honeycombs, but one crate, when Silvertongue opened it, seemed far the exception. The bottles in this box were all different shapes and sizes, each one carefully sealed in with a soft pinewood cap to keep it stable in its casing. Some of the bottles themselves looked exquisitely crafted, designed with as much attention to detail as a glass sculpture.
"If you do," his partner warned, "I ain' comin' with. I'm not stickin' my neck out fer ya."
"Just go back then," the first remarked. "If anyone shows up, tell 'em I went to use the outhouse behind the tavern. I won't be long, I'm sure."
"Fine, fine," the second grumbled, waving his paw as he turned away.
~~~
Most of the crates seemed to have the same dusty bottles packed in with straw in softwood honeycombs, but one crate, when Silvertongue opened it, seemed far the exception. The bottles in this box were all different shapes and sizes, each one carefully sealed in with a soft pinewood cap to keep it stable in its casing. Some of the bottles themselves looked exquisitely crafted, designed with as much attention to detail as a glass sculpture.
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